


That's How This Works

by CamsthiSky



Series: Angst Prompts Vol 1 [14]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cassandra Cain cares about her siblings, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, fear toxin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 18:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12371424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamsthiSky/pseuds/CamsthiSky
Summary: Damian's made a mistake. A fatal mistake.orDamian's hit by fear toxin, and Cass and Dick are there for him.





	That's How This Works

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: No. 16. “No. Don’t you dare shut me out!” for Cass and Damian?

Damian isn’t sure when exactly he’d gotten hit. All he knows is that one moment he was fighting adequately, taking down Scarecrow’s lowlife thugs one by one, and the next, there’s a needle stuck in his neck, hitting his weak spot and rushing through his veins before he has a chance to blink.

He curses himself as he falls weakly to his knees, Scarecrow sneering something to Father and Cain from where he’s holding the empty syringe up behind Damian. It had been a mistake, Damian knows. Grayson’s words echo in his head, _Everyone makes mistakes, Dami. We’re human. That’s how this works,_ but it can’t work like that. But a mistake means death, either as an assassin or as Robin.

And he’s Robin right now. He can’t afford this mistake.

He crashes to the floor, and his vision slides away. He feels like he’s fading away.

He’s useless. He’s so _useless_ lying here on the floor, gasping for breath in the crushing darkness. He can’t quite remember if he’s awake or asleep at this point, but he’s not sure it matters anymore. He’d gotten hit. He’d made a mistake. It’s over.

“Robin,” a soft voice calls, and Damian struggles to open his eyes to look for where Cain’s voice is coming from.

He manages to pry them open, but everything is distorted. The black mass kneeling in front of him morphs from Cain’s suit to the hulking figure of Father. The gaze glaring down at him makes Damian flinch, and he curses his own weakness. But then Father swirls and it’s Grayson staring down at him, blood trickling from his lips, idiotic smile pulling his face up in some act of happiness Damian knows Grayson doesn’t feel.

 _“I forgive you,”_ Grayson mouths, because of course Grayson would be so stupid as to forgive Damian for a fatal mistake. And then Grayson leans forward— _staggers_ forward—and Damian pushes himself up to his knees with a desperate plea he can’t exactly hear on his lips and reaches for his idiot of a brother.

There’s a sharp pain in his neck, and Damian ignores it. He pleads again and again, and Grayson looks up at him again with sad, exhausted eyes. _Damian_ had made Grayson look like that. _Damian_ had made a mistake, and it’s costing Grayson his life.

He should have been better.

“Robin,” someone says, again. Grayson’s mouth moves, but it’s not his voice, and Damian stills.

And then he _remembers._ He blinks, and it’s not Grayson in front of him anymore. It’s Cain. Cassandra. She’s holding an empty syringe, her face bare and so obviously _concerned._ Damian looks around the room, but Father and Crane are nowhere to be found.

His gaze snaps back to the vigilante in front of him. “What happened?”

“Fear toxin,” Cassandra says, her voice soft with a hard edge. Damian appreciates her brevity. She won’t coddle him like Grayson will, either. “The dose was too much for you. Batman and I were both hit, but you were the only one affected.”

“The antidote?” Damian asks, his eyes flicking to the syringe she’s still holding.

“Had to give you two,” Cassandra tells him, gesturing to another syringe on the ground next to her. She’s still staring at him, and he almost looks away. He might have if he hadn’t been trained out of him. He keeps her gaze, even as she wonders, “You okay?”

Damian scoffs, attempting to hide the slight tremble in his voice. “I am fine.”

But Cassandra isn’t fooled. She gently touches his arm, her hold light and easy enough to escape should it come down to it. “No. Don’t shut me out. You know better.”

Damian swallows, and this time he _does_ look away. To the syringe, because it’s easier to make contact with. For some silly reason, he wishes Grayson was here. He’d take Damian’s _I’m fine_ in stride, smile sadly, and usher the two of them home for a movie night with hot chocolate or something of the sort.

And as much as Damian hates to admit it, that’s what he wants right now. He might not even mind Grayson pulling him close into an embrace and carding his fingers through his hair. There’s no point in stopping the man, after all. He’d do it anyways, with or without Damian’s permission.

“I wish to go home,” Damian says after a long, silent moment.

Cassandra’s lips thin. “Okay,” she says softly, getting to her feet. She helps Damian to his despite his light protest, and then tells him, “I’ll call Dick.”

And then she’s walking towards the door, hand to her communicator before Damian can splutter out a single word in response to that. Damian, wide-eyed and still feeling the effects of whatever had been in Crane’s fear toxins, freezes just a moment, before a rush of _something_ races through his veins, and he deflates.

He follows Cassandra out of the warehouse, and to the Batmobile, where Batman is awaiting the two of them. He doesn’t say anything on the drive home, but there’s a presence about him that’s almost _nervous._ Which doesn’t quite compute in Damian’s head.

There are still flashes in his head that pop up while he sits in the backseat, for once not fighting for the passenger seat where Cassandra sits now. His mind hasn’t quite recovered, and every time he closes his eyes, he cans see Grayson mouthing, _I forgive you._ It’s almost haunting.

They get to the Cave in record time, and when Damian steps out of the car, he’s assaulted by a smiling Grayson, picking him up and twirling him around in his arms. His grin is large and happy, and there’s no blood dripping from his lips as he sets Damian back down on the ground. Damian’s lips quirk up in a small smile of his own without his permission.

“So?” Grayson asks, raising an eyebrow. “Movie night? Alfred’s got the popcorn and hot chocolate ready to go, so all you need to do is say the word.”

“Fine,” Damian says, and then he pauses, seeing Cassandra leaning against the car smiling softly at him. He clears his throat. “Cassandra. Would you like to join us?”

Grayson starts in surprise and whirls around, but Cassandra’s smile only widens. She meets his gaze evenly. “Yes,” she says simply. “Disney?”

Grayson seems to recover, because he’s laughing, and pulling Damian closer. Damian lets him. Grayson grabs Cassandra’s hand and pulls the two of them towards the changing rooms. “You kidding, Cass? It’s always Disney. Disney’s amazing.”

Cassandra hums, Damian scoffs, and Grayson laughs, and yet, for the first time since the needle had first plunged into his neck, Damian feels something _settle._


End file.
